I Speak Of Greek And Freak

Today's Lesson Beginneth
Er,  yes, it is rather late.  I was on a late shift, then had to do the shopping, then had to - anyone else listening? - had to unpack all the shopping and put it away.  This is a mixed blessing - of course it takes time and effort for a frail elderly man to put things away, especially since there's a lot of it (I can hear your sympathetic sighs even now), but then again it means nobody else knows what there is or where it is.

Kabanosy sossy -  Conrad's way of rewarding himself.  Plus a bottle of ice for swigging.

Now For The Greek
Whilst having a shave this morning a couple of words popped into my head.  Once again, no, I have no idea why they did; one second I was dabbing the shaving gel on, the next both of them were suddenly there.  Both had cropped up in short articles by H. P. Lovecraft, one of the finest journalists of his generation and a major inspiration for that Kentucky documentary film-maker, John Carpenter.

     "Eidolon"
     Conrad remembers rather gliding over the concept of this word when he first read it, but now BOOJUM! can reveal that it is Greek for "apparition".  In ancient Greek literature the concept was not of a mere shade, but also referred to an almost doppelganger identity, where the dead person was still present in the material world, exemplified in the works of Euripides*.

Billy Idol.  Easily confused.

     "Nepenthe"
     Again Conrad's grasp of this word was rather hazy, but he realised that it vaguely referred to a drug of sorts, and indeed it is Greek for "Drug of forgetfulness". Quite which drug it was is no longer clear, but it was used as an anti-depressant, so No! it wasn't simply an enormous bottle of wine, chugged down undiluted - the Greeks of the classical world drank their wine thinned with water, feeling it a bit chavvy to neck it whole.

Modern-day equivalent?

Aaaaand The Freak.  Make That "Freaks", Plural
I mentioned the Yowie in yesterday's blog - which you have read, haven't you? - as a cryptid, or an animal species that - can you prove you read it? - has not yet been discovered or classified by science, rendering - I can check your ISP provider you know don't think I can't! - it more mythical than morphological.
     You will have heard of several cryptids already, although some are less famous:  the Loch Ness Monster, Bigfoot, the Yeti, the Giant Penguin, the New Jersey Devil, Mothman, the chupacabra.

Bow to your Giant Penguin Overlord, puny humans!!!

     One thing these creatures have in common is that nobody has ever presented a body.  There are some bizarre special pleadings for this omission, one of which is that the creatures teleport away from contact with humans and so can never be discovered.  Er, yes,  Quite.
     Another thing is that you can't have sightings of a solo cryptid spread out over decades if not centuries because they aren't immortal and need a baseline colony in terms of numbers.  This in turn means evidence in terms of hide, hair, bodies, droppings, prey, paths, marks at the waterhole and drinking the cream from the top of the milk-bottles on your doorstep.
     Given that this is the mobile-phone generation, Conrad also ponders how there aren't thousands of film clips of these beasties going viral round the internet?
     Oh, don't mistake the sea-serpent for a cryptid - look at the oar-fish and wonder at what barmy designs nature comes up with.

WOW!  Look at that three-masted schooner out on the bay!

Buggy G Riphead
What an hilarious name, eh?  The pseudonym for a graphic artist who did the artwork for Future Sound Of London's "Lifeforms" CD.  What has this to do with anything?
     Well, Conrad was striding purposefully to work this morning, playing "Lifeforms", and Track One of Disk Two seemed to be hauntingly familiar.
     "I recognise that!" crowed Conrad, but only in his head - there are too many other pedestrians at that time of the morning to shout it to the clear blue skies above**.
     It was Pachelbel's Canon, played on electronic keyboards, or perhaps a sequencer, against a sweeping background of string synths.
     The Canon (& Gigue In D Major, to give the piece it's full title) is a great little piece of baroque music, of which Conrad has 14 seperate versions in his Grooveshark list.  Well, 15 if you include Lifeforms.

A Cannon.  It might be Pachelbel's, it might not.

The Pecking Order Of Published Pants
Statisticians would point out that allowing Conrad time to peruse is when the more bizarre ideas pop into his head - UNLESS there is something physical there to interrupt his eyeballs - as follows.
     Today Conrad waited in the queue to get his Large Espresso***, and cast his eyes across the aisles to - the magazine stand.  
     'Wow!' he marvelled.  "What a parade of value-free content-light printing directed unambiguously at women!"
     Top Rank:  "Elle" - because it's French, therefore automatically arty and - and - and all that goes with French (Left Bank? Wine? Escargots?)
      Middle Rank:  "Woman", "Woman's Weekly", "Woman's Own" - these titles don't beat about the bush, they explain exactly who they are after as an audience.  Women only^.  
     Lower Rank: "Look", "Closer" - an hilarious irony in that juxtaposition.  Maybe they can combine and obtain a bigger market share?
     The Frankly Desperate Rank: "Pick Me"  Or else what?  You'll start taking hostages?

Now this - THIS! - is a magazine!

Here we pause the lesson.  There is more but Conrad needs to get to bed for his beauty sleep, as he is not the most handsome of men.

*  I bet you never realised this morning, getting out of bed, that you'd ever be reading the name "Euripides"
**  In reality they were a dirty grey and overcast, but that's not very poetic.
***  A massive shot of caffeine to defibrillate the day
^  "Women Only".  Doesn't it seem as if there should be a male equivalent? "Blokes Only" has a nice ring to it!